


Quintilli Vare, Legiones Redde!

by HeartofCanada (Tassledown), Tassledown



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Battle of Teutoburg Forest, Blood, Gen, History of Germania, History of Israel, Implied Germania/Rome, Minor Violence, Roman History, although they barely know each other at this point, so it's just battle lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/HeartofCanada, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/Tassledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Germania is in Rome on a diplomatic visit waiting for Rome himself to return from Illyria to negotiate the tentative peace in Roman-occupied Germania Minor when the news reaches the capital of the massacre in Teutoburg Forest. </p><p>Leaving - both to return to his people and leave before Rome decides he must pay for the actions of a German-born Roman citizen - is more complicated than he'd thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quintilli Vare, Legiones Redde!

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just history porn and character exploration of both the relationship between Germania and Rome and how I wanted to write Ancient Israel. 
> 
> For those who don't feel like binging history to understand everything, there are the notes at the bottom although they may be more sparse.less accurate than you might like. This IS technically a PWP fic. 
> 
> The time period this is set in is 9 AD.

Athanaric was trying to meet with Marcus, now that he had gotten the news of his return from Illyria. When he passed the Emperor's meeting room, however, he could hear shouting from within. He paused and looked inside. 

Marcus was standing by the table, with a paper in one white-knuckled hand. There was a few others in the room, but no one was speaking. No one was even moving. Emperor Augustus had walked over to a wall and was slowly beating his head into the stone. As Athanaric watched, the Emperor stopped and shouted again.

“Quintili Vare! Give me back my legions!” The Emperor's voice broke. 

Athanaric moved out of sight of the door. Quintili Vare? It sounded familiar. He took a moment to make sense of the Latin and swallowed. 

Quintilius Varus: the general in charge of Germania Minor. In charge of a small portion of Germania's tribes that had been conquered by Rome. 

He hurried back the way he'd come, not wanting to encounter Rome while this was fresh on his mind. He tried to guess what had happened, but came up blank. He had no idea what Varus could've done to instill that response, but nothing good came to mind. 

He'd sounded scared, part of his mind whispered, the Emperor had. He'd sounded scared, not angry. If Varus had betrayed him he would've been angry. How many legions had he had at his command? Three? Yes, three. Nearly half the Empire's legions were in Illyria, that's why Marcus himself had gone, leaving only barely enough to hold Spain and Gaul and Germania Minor and those needed to defend Rome. 

Three legions in Germania Minor, and Augustus was afraid and wanted them back. 

Athanaric hurried a little more. He'd come to Rome to smooth over the small conflicts between the Roman presence in Germania Minor and the Marcomanni. If this was coming from problems with the conquered Cherusci and their former allies, he did not wish to be party to the fallout when he wasn't prepared. 

He walked into his rooms and halted. There was someone already there, a man he didn't know. “Pardon me, I wasn't told anyone would be in my rooms.”

“I'm not a servant.” The man turned to him and smiled, and Athanaric realized he was another Nation, although not one he'd met before. “I heard the news about Varus and thought I might congratulate you on it.”

Athanaric stiffened. “I do not believe congratulations are in order for what happened.”

“If it keeps Germania from becoming a Roman vassal, I assure you, it is. It was General Arminius who betrayed them.”

Athanaric blinked and the memories came back. Arminius, son of a Cherusci chief who'd been taken as a hostage, to be raised in Rome. Athanaric thought he might have met the man before but he couldn't be certain; there had been a lot of young Germanics Marcus introduced him to in his army. “Indeed. So he wished to return home.”

“So it would seem.” 

The stranger shrugged absently and Atharanic eyed him again. He wasn't armed that Athanaric could see, but he moved like he should be. His clothes were simple, lower class, and not very Roman; his black curly hair were long, and he wore a short beard. He wasn't Egypt; Athanaric had met Egypt's Nation before in Rome's rooms. However, his looks were closer to Egypt's than Gaul's, so he was likely Mediterranean.

“Who are you?” Athanaric asked.

“Judaea. You should probably be packing. Marcus will be angry with you when he gives up on calming his Emperor.” Judaea shrugged. “Now that Illyria is mostly pacified, he will likely retaliate as soon as he can move his legions North.”

Athanaric murmured some kind of thanks and entered his room to start doing so, as had been his plan. Judaea walked out his door and Athanaric assumed he'd left until he heard him speak again.

“Marcus! Did Augustus break his skull already?”

“I gave you an order not to speak to my allies, Judaea. What are you doing here?”

“You told me to stay away from barbarians and the illiterate; seeing as you're making his people your generals and teaching them Latin, I thought it no longer applied.”

Athanaric heard someone's fist slam into the wall and looked up. Judaea and Marcus were facing each other across his doorway, Marcus shaking with suppressed fury. 

“Angry you didn't anticipate Arminius' betrayal?” Judaea said calmly. 

He was insane, Athanaric realized. Judaea was trying to get Marcus to throw a punch at him. He began to suspect the difference in dress between him and Egypt was as much disfavour towards Judaea as it was favour towards Egypt. 

“You have no business here,” Marcus snapped. “Go back to Parthia and leave me in peace.”

Judaea's voice was sweet. “I'm just interested in the doings of the Empire to which I belong.”

“Your region is your only concern.”

“Did you really lose all three legions?”

Marcus swept past Judaea into the room, snarling at Athanaric instead. “Why did you give us no warning he was going to do this? I thought you were here as our ally!”

Athanaric stood erect and very still by his things. “I was here about the Marcomanni, Marcus, no the Cherusci. Arminius was your citizen was he not?”

“He is no longer,” Marcus snarled. “And neither will any of your people be!”

Athanaric relaxed, bracing himself for Marcus to start a fight. He saw movement and glanced back to see Judaea enter the room. Marcus turned and punched his province with a snarl.

“I told you to stay out!”

To Athanaric's surprise, Judaea staggered backwithout trying to block it or retaliate. When he straightened, he was smiling with his bloodied lip. “I thought I would suggest you stop antagonizing your ally. After all, he's not behind Arminius' betrayal. If you mean to take the land back, isn't he your best shot at it?”

“I do not need advice from a fallen kingdom,” Marcus spat.

Judaea wiped the blood off his chin and held his hand up pointedly. “Of course, my mistake. I'll take my leave to visit Parthia now then. She does miss me.”

Marcus grabbed his shirt and snarled in his face. “You are a coward. You let Parthia fight your battles for you because she thinks of you as her pet. You claim you believe you belong to me, but you simply miss your place in her bed!”

Judaea grabbed Marcus' hand and pried it open, his expression almost bored. “As you said, Marcus. I'm not a Kingdom anymore. Of course I can't fight you fairly.”

Athanaric kept his expression blank. He could see from Judaea's face that the direct meaning of his words was not at all what he was trying to convey. Marcus was shaking. He let go of Judaea's shirt and pushed him away. 

“Get yourself out of my sight. I don't want to see you until the next time I return to Rome triumphant, is that understood?”

“I expect I will not see you for some time then if your next campaign will be into Germania.” Judaea smirked, his eyes bitter. “Such a pity it will take you away from the provinces who can't turn you down.”

Marcus stepped forward and backhanded Judaea across the face. Athanaric saw Judaea tense and stepped up to grab Marcus' tunic and jerk him out of reach. Judaea's punch stopped half-way and his mouth twisted in a snarl.

“Perhaps you should go,” Athanaric said quietly. “Thank you for coming to warn me.”

“Yes. I see it was ultimately unnecessary.” Judaea's mask of pleasant humour slipped over his expression once more. “Take care. I hope you two enjoy being allies.”

“I assure you, he will be ten times the company you are.” Marcus snapped. “Get out.”

Judaea smirked again. “You'll never forgive me for not dying like Old Egypt did, will you?”

Marcus brushed off Athanaric's hand, his eyes focused on Judaea.“I assure you, I will find a way to fix that. And I will enjoy it.”

Judaea shrugged and walked out, his hands tucked into his belt. 

Marcus threw himself down on Athanaric's bed once Judaea was out of sight. “That man...”

“One of your provinces?” Athanaric said quietly.

“The Kingdom of Judah,” Marcus spat. “He should have died when Babylon tore his Kingdom to the ground, but he's too stubborn to stay dead.”

“I see.” Athanaric exhaled and softened his tone. “I didn't know Arminius was planning something, Marcus.”

Marcus leaned forward onto his knees. “I know that. I lost my temper and I shouldn't have. Judaea's right about one thing at least, you're not my property and I shouldn't get mad at you like that.”

Athanaric blinked slowly, remembering Judaea's congratulations on not becoming a Roman province. He smiled cautiously back at Marcus. “I should go home and see what has happened in the meantime.”

“I will possibly meet you there.” Marcus smiled darkly. “I am not going to let this pass unpunished. I want Arminius' head, if I have to destroy your Cherusci to get it.”

“Then I may see you on the battlefield.” Athanaric inclined his head, his body tense – almost eager. He hadn't fought Marcus in battle for decades, and part of him missed that.

Marcus smiled back at him, his face transformed with pleasure. “I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title literally means "Quintillius Varus, give me back my legions!"
> 
> Illyria is the Balkans region and behaved about as well for Rome as they have for every occupying force since. 
> 
> The Battle of Teutoburg Forest was a rebellion led by the son of a Cherusci chieftain who was taken to Rome, raised and educated there. He arranged for the ambush along a narrow path in a forest that nearly completely wiped out all three legions, and is considered by some to be Rome's worst defeat.
> 
> The Kingdom of Judah lost much of its population in 586 BC, either killed or enslaved by Babylon. Many left Babylon for Iran when they got the chance, which was, by 9 AD known as Parthia and Rome's nemesis.
> 
> Judaea's congratulations on not becoming a Roman province references the social history of Rome that placed full authority over, and responsibility for, a household upon the Head. If Marcus behaved like his own citizens, it often played out as extremely abusive for a number of reasons.
> 
> Regarding the Hetalia canon that Germania was Rome's guard before he killed him... Rome's first contact with Germanic peoples was in the last century leading up to this point. Germanic people were not formal Roman citizens until a couple centuries after this - when Germania was likely his guard - and did not sack Rome until the 6th century AD.


End file.
